


Our Little Game of Cat and Mouse

by SpanishPanda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpanishPanda/pseuds/SpanishPanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted on Quotev, but I'm never on there anymore, so yeah. Here ya go.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Our Little Game of Cat and Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Quotev, but I'm never on there anymore, so yeah. Here ya go.

"Quickly! After her!"

"Come on, over here!"

"Which way did she go?"

"...Dammit... We lost her again..."

I could hardly contain my laughter as those dumb cops searched for me, coming up empty as always. Maybe if they relied more on their brains and less on those fancy weapons of theirs, they wouldn't be so pitiful. I watched them closely, yet they were completely unaware of my presence.  
"Bloody hell! She's gone and escaped..." I almost felt bad for him, this blonde haired man before me, a cop by the name of Kirkland. He was one of the few that might actually have a brain. He's the only one who's actually come close to catching me before, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a small role in that. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find his gorgeous green eyes and messy blonde hair attractive, even with those large eyebrows of his, which oddly suit him very well. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't fallen for him back when he first started chasing me all those years ago. I guess that makes me a liar then. Being a thief, I suppose lying isn't the worst thing I've done. I sigh, getting bored with this little game of mine, and step out to where they can see me. I whistle for their attention, then run for it as soon as they turn towards me.  
"(Y/N)!" I laughed; the chase was on once again, but of course, we all knew very well how it would end.

-Arthur's POV-

"DAMMIT!" I pound my fist on my desk, teeth clenched. "She got away  _again_!" Alfred walked up to me, patting my shoulder.  
"Dude, it's been like,  _three years_. You know how good she is at this." I sighed; it was true. She's the only criminal I've failed to apprehend, and this failure of mine has been going three years strong. I've come so close before, though it seems like she wasn't even trying then. She doesn't make mistakes, she plays games. She teases and taunts me whenever I get near, mockingly encouraging me to catch her. God that woman drives me mad. I push Alfred's hand away.  
"That's not a very comforting statement." He chuckles.  
"Yeah, I guess not. But I'll tell you what, a lot of the other guys here are jealous."  
" _Jealous_?"  
"Yeah dude, you've got such a hottie to chase around, while we're all stuck with your run of the mill guy criminals." I rolled my eyes.  
"How childish can you bloody tossers get?..." Though, I'd be lying if I said I was one hundred percent focused whenever I got close to catching her. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find her dazzling (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair absolutely stunning. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't fallen for her the first time I got close enough to her and heard her chatter on while she made her escape. I guess that makes me a liar then. Being a cop, I suppose lying is alright.  
"Well, I've got paperwork to do, so I should probably get on that. Later Artie." I just offered an irritated grumble as means of response as he walked away. Sifting through the files on my desk, I come across the one belonging to (y/n). Opening it, I read through it for the umpteenth time. She was an orphan; her parents were killed in a plane crash when she was ten. She ran away from her foster home because her foster parents abused her- or at least that's what she claims. I'm more than a little hesitant when trusting a criminal. She's told me many things about herself, and even some about me, which took me by surprise. How she knew these things, I couldn't guess. Sighing again, I close the file. I walk out of the precinct, nothing to do at the moment. I decide to go to the café down the street and clear my head, and maybe, just maybe figure out a way to catch this infuriating woman.

-Reader's POV-

I yawn, dropping the duffel bag on my bed and plopping down next to it. I wasn't really tired or anything, just bored. My last heist had been so easy, it took almost no effort. At least I'll be able to make some cash and afford to eat this month. I rolled over and stared up at the ceiling of this old rundown building. It had been abandoned when I found it, and it wasn't too far from the town, so I thought it'd be a nice place to crash. I'd been living here for almost ten years now. It's  _definitely_  a better home than that stupid  _foster home_  I had to live in when I was ten. Luckily I managed to get out of that hellhole in just under a year, then happen upon this place yet another year later. Sighing, I sit up, running my fingers through my hair. My stomach rumbled, making me roll my eyes.  
"Guess I should go out and eat something before my stomach tries eating  _itself_..." I stand, making sure I had some money in my pocket, then made my way into the town, through the snow covered streets. I didn't bother disguising myself. The only ones who knew what I looked like were the cops, and the only one that would ever recognize me was Kirkland. Other than that, I was just a normal person to everyone else. I walked into a small store, buying a few things here and there for back home. When I walked out, a German shepherd caught my eye. His leash was tied to a pole and he looked awfully thirsty. I sighed, shaking my head, and kneeled down in front of him. Pulling out a water bottle from one of my bags, and a plastic container from the other, I pour him some water and watch as he laps it up happily. I allow myself a soft smile, scratching him behind his right ear. "You go ahead and drink buddy, I have other containers. I'm sure your owner will be back soon. I can't  _believe_  he would just leave you out in the cold like this, how cruel..." I'd always wanted a dog, but you can't always have what you want, can you?  
No, no you can't.

-Arthur's POV-

Exiting the café, I look up at the sky. The snow was no longer falling, though it did blanket the entire town, a thin white layer of the substance wherever you looked. It was beautiful really. A cold gust of wind pulled me from my thoughts, and I shivered, looking ahead. Squinting, I take a step forward, trying to make sure my eyes weren't playing a trick on me. Across the street, holding a few bags and kneeling in front of a large dog, was (y/n). She was right there. Had she just stolen again? My breath hitched when I saw that smile. She looked so calm and content, seeing to this creature, though I'm positive it's not hers. For once she actually seems like a normal person, kind and caring. Honestly, she looked  _beautiful_. It was hard to believe someone like  _this_  was a  _criminal_. She looked up and caught me staring. Her eyes went wide for a moment, then she just smiled and waved, giving the dog one last pat on the head before standing and dusting herself off. Giving a little bow, she began walking down the street. It finally clicked in my mind what was happening, and I huffed impatiently. Running across the street and after her, I shouted at her.  
"Stop! Police!" She tightened her grip on the bags and started running as well, making sure to avoid running into people. The chase lasted a good fifteen minutes, weaving between people and buildings, the bags slowing her down considerably. Whatever is in them must be important if she won't let them go. Finally, turning a corner, we were met with a dead end. She stopped, shoulders slumped, then turned to me. I pulled out my gun, pointing it at her. She just smiled, setting down her bags.  
"Hello Arthur. How are you today?" I narrowed my eyes.  
"(y/n), you are under arrest. Anything you say can and wi-"  
"Yeah  _no_ , I don't think so." She pulled out a switchblade from her pocket, her smile getting a bit wider. I scoffed.  
" _Please_ , what do you plan on doing with  _that_  little thing?" Wordlessly, she held it to her throat, the cold steel just barely slicing her skin. My eyes widened. "W-wait, don't!" She chuckled, shaking her head.  
"Talk to me Arthur."  
"...What?" Her smile became a sad one, but her tone remained.  
"Talk to me. I never have anyone to talk to. You're the closest thing I have to a friend, and you're trying to throw me in  _jail_. Whenever you come after me I talk, but you never join the conversation. Come on, let's talk a little?" I furrowed my eyebrows, though I couldn't help but feel just a little bad for her.  
"Why should I do that?" She shrugged.  
"Last wish? And pointing a gun at someone about to commit suicide is a  _bit_  counterintuitive, don't you think?" I sighed, not taking my eyes off her.  
"Look, I don't want you to die, I just want justice to be served." She laughed.  
"Ha,  _justice_?  _Please_ , you've no idea what you're talking about my dearest Kirkland. If there was any such thing as this  _justice_ you speak of, things like this wouldn't have to  _happen_. You and I wouldn't be standing here right now. Honestly, you cops..." Her tone became a bit harsh as she continued. "Nothing in my life has ever been  _just_. This world doesn't treat everyone equally, it's not  _fair_. But I suppose you don't really  _care_  about that, hm? You just want to achieve your precious little  _justice_." She took a step closer to me, knife still in hand. "I'd rather  _die_  than let you do that." For some reason, I couldn't do anything. It's as if the cold air had frozen me in place. "Oh yeah, I've one last thing to say to you before I go." She walked up to me, grabbing my shirt collar and pulling me into a deep, passionate kiss. I was shocked at first, but found myself kissing back a moment later. She pulled back a little, bringing her lips to my ear and whispering in a sultry voice, " _See you in hell_." She stepped back, smirking, and dragged the blade across her neck. I could only watch as she crumpled to the ground, the blood streaming from her neck staining the pure white snow under her a deep crimson. I put my gun back in its holster, too stunned, too hurt for words. I turned around at the sound of footsteps, and see Alfred running up to me.  
"Hey dude! I saw you running like crazy all over the place! I tried calling out to you but you were too distracted. What's up?" I swallowed hard, unsure what to say, and point behind me. He raised an eyebrow, looking confused. Sighing, I turn, about to try explaining things, but stopped. I felt my heart pounding, my breath catching in my throat.

She was gone. The bags, the knife, everything. Sitting on the bloodstained snow was a small bit of paper. I kneeled down and picked it up. It was a receipt. Those bags were her groceries. On the blank side was a note that read:

_See you in hell._

_Oh wait, we're already here._

Crumpling the note in my hand, I wanted to feel angry, but just couldn't bring myself to do so. Instead I found myself smiling, gently touching my lips with my index finger. Before I knew it, I had begun laughing, almost to the point of tears, surely earning some strange looks from Alfred. I didn't care. (y/n) was still alive.

The game was still on.


End file.
